Here’s Spit In Your Eye

I always feel there should be a certain amount of decorum regardless of what a person’s doing and this includes running.

This morning I was galloping along the road in my new spring outfit having a nice, restful run – black tights, a long white T under a black quilted vest; I call it my punk Peter Pan look.

My wounds are healing from my fall a week ago so I was in a pretty good mood until this fellow flew by spitting over his left shoulder. If I hadn’t ducked I would have gotten hit right in the eye.

No, it’s not funny.

I don’t know one female who would have done that. We would have choked first.

Who does he think he is anyway?

I was so irritated that I decided to get into his face about it.

Let me describe him first. He was in his 30s, jock like with a big, barreled chest. He was sweating like crazy another reason for me to shudder since he was like one huge drip. God forbid he shook himself off. I would have needed penicillin.

When I caught up with him he was panting waiting for the light to change by Strawberry Fields so I looked at him and said, “you know your spit almost hit me.”

He took out his earphones and said, “What did you say Miss?” (shit, he called me Miss)

I repeated myself in a nicer tone since I saw right away how absolutely clueless he was, not that I’m excusing him mind you, but he did lack that obstinate edge I was expecting and well, whenever anyone calls me Miss I melt more than just a little.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “when I get going I really zone out. I’ll try to be more careful. next time.”

This pissed me off too because now I couldn’t yell at him. I so wanted to be self-righteous and let him have it but I let it go and off we both went in different directions.

This incident got me thinking about manners in general, how they really are becoming a dying art.

Take the woman on the train the other morning with the purse that could sleep 6.

It was rush hour, the car was packed; this little old, unassuming man was sitting in front of her with his face practically shoved in her bag. Wendy Wasp in her pink Chanel knock-off suit talking nonstop to an identical friend, was totally oblivious to this. The man, who happened to be Asian, took this whole frontal affront sitting down, so to speak.

“Don’t tell us Susannah, you got involved.”

“Yes I did.”

“I leaned in and said, “Excuse me Madam, could you please move your bag a bit before you smother this poor man?”

She looked at me as if to say, my husband warned me about people like you, then moved it to her other arm.

“Were you really that nice?”

“Yes, of course I was.”

“Susannah!”

“Well, I did call her bag a wrecking ball but I said it with a great deal of charm.”

We mustn’t leave out parents who don’t bother to teach etiquette to their children anymore. When I was growing up I always had a hankie in my possession. I was taught if moisture of any kind was remotely about to make an appearance out it should come.

Now kids blow their nose in the air. Have you ever seen that? It’s amazing to me, with the mother right there; snot as far as the eye can see sailing out into the atmosphere.

And I would never cough without covering my mouth. I would have gotten a good slap if I didn’t get that one right. I see that on the train a lot too. These kids all from private schools sneeze and hack like they own the car. No wonder half of Manhattan has the flu. People blame it on the weather but I say it’s kids who behave like heathens.

Nothing turns me off more than bad manners. If a man eats with his mouth open, talks with it full or uses his sleeve instead of a napkin I’m gone like a shot.

“Jesus Susannah, all this because of a little spit?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s like you’re possessed over some guy’s saliva.”

“You know, this is not a topic for discussion or debate.”

“We took a vote and feel you should just move on from this Suz.”

“Well I took a vote and me, myself and I think you should just mind you own business. Better yet, go ride the train at around 3 when the kids get out of school.

Then get back to me.

SB

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Health, New York City, sexual relationships, Uncategorized, Women and men and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to Here’s Spit In Your Eye

  1. kerrycooks says:

    Rude people. They’re the worst! I hope I never become one or that someone is there to keep me in check if I do

    Like

  2. D. D. Syrdal says:

    I’ve never understood the male need to spit. I was waiting for my commute train one morning and a youngish guy on the platform kept hocking up spitballs and spewing them. Clearly he was ill, and I kept wondering if he was going to keep that up once he was ON the train. I managed to find a seat away from him so I don’t actually know. I’ve had more than my fair share of colds and nasal congestion over the years, and yet I have never found the need to spit. I just don’t get it. People are awful on mass transit, I see them pull on suitcases on rollers, and completely block two seats with all their gear. Um, Hello??? Have you noticed you’re not the only one on the train? Or men who sit with their legs spread WIDE apart, blocking seats to their right and left. Whatever became of common courtesy?

    Like

  3. polkenhorn says:

    Okay…I’m ‘guilty’ of spitting and I’m perceived as a very elegant lady. I have four sons plus when they were teens there were many males at our home…plus my husband and a male dog. I was outnumbered but ‘the queen’.

    They never spit out in public though…that’s was not allowed. I couldn’t spit and marveled at how they could ‘work it up and out’.

    After watching ‘Titanic’ a number of times I was wide-eyed at Jack teaching Rose how to ‘hack it up deeply and spew it out’. So I practiced in our fenced back yard.

    One day I gave a demo to my love and he was amazed at my distance record. It’s just something I wanted to see if I could do and I can do it.

    Never, ever is it done outside my personal space ~ our g’sons know their gran is special but they don’t divulge my hidden ‘talent’…

    Forgive me, Susannah…

    Like

    • You don’t need forgiveness, you need a spittoon for 6. So you mean to tell me that it’s all Leonardo DiCaprios’s fault? Hmm, well I just may have to write him a letter.

      You’re very funny not to mention charming to tell me all that.

      Like

  4. hal rubenstein says:

    Its obvious that you have to be more careful when your outside running or riding a bus, it seems your always in great danger, pleaase take better care of yourself so we may continue to enjoy reading your stories !

    Like

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